


One Shots, Asides, and other Moments in 'Kingdom of Hell'

by Shay_Moonsilk



Series: Kingdom of Hell [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Baby, Beelzebub reluctantly likes Crowley, Blow Jobs, Children, Crowley loves Aziraphale, Cuddling & Snuggling, Gen, Jealous Crowley (Good Omens), Kitten, Ligur approves of the angel, Ligur does not approve of the angel, Ligur loves Hastur, Love Poems, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Poetry, Pregnancy, Protective Siblings, Purring, Shapeshifting, Siblings, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Teasing, sibling dynamics, so what else can they do, until
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-08-11 09:35:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20151469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shay_Moonsilk/pseuds/Shay_Moonsilk
Summary: A collection of one-shots that fit in the broader 'Kingdom of Hell' universe that I couldn't fit into 'The Power, The Status' or 'Angel's Guide to Hell'.Chapter One: Beelzebub is the first Ineffable Husbands shipper, not by choice. But they like Crowley, so...Chapter Two: Ligur does not like the angel. Until he does.Chapter Three: Aziraphale tries to handle anxiety, and has Crowley to help him.Chapter Four: Aziraphale is in a certain kind of mood, and Crowley causes a power outage in Hell from sexy reasonsChapter Five: All About Eve - her animal transformation (with Teacher!Snake!Crowley) and her first time Up StairsChapter Six: Five Times Hastur Cock-Blocked Crowley, and the One Time Aziraphale Wouldn't Let Him





	1. Beelzebub is a (reluctant) good sibling

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Power, the Status](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20038027) by [Shay_Moonsilk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shay_Moonsilk/pseuds/Shay_Moonsilk). 
  * Inspired by [An Angel’s Guide to Hell: A Not-Nice and Accurate Telling by Aziraphale](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20143396) by [Shay_Moonsilk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shay_Moonsilk/pseuds/Shay_Moonsilk). 

> The first one shot is here!!! 
> 
> Beelzebub was originally supposed to have a larger role in the story, but I had a really hard time getting their character down and Hastur took a lot of my attention. I got to include them more in chapter 10, but it made me regret not having them more earlier when they had such a large part when I initially thought of this story. This one-shot addresses that. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!!

Crowley doesn’t usually go Downstairs. In fact, he’s become quite good at procrastinating at it. He’ll wait for the last possible moment, refusing to go anywhere _ near _ Hell, always making up some excuse about work. 

Beelzebub isn’t _ stupid _ . And they _ know _ their brother. Because that’s what the idiot is, and they call it like they see it. And they know Crowley doesn’t work if he can help it. 

The stupid prince has gotten himself an angel _ obssess _ over. 

And Beezlebub is the Ruler of The Damned, the Voice of the Dark King Lucifer, and will one day Command Armies in a War Against Heaven. They know to withstand torture and horros most can only barely fathom. 

But whenever they spend time with Crowley alone, it’s only a matter of time before he begins whining about that stupid Angel of his. And it drives Beelzebub _ crazy _. 

1973 is when Crowley begins to explain the ‘Corrupted Angel’ who he ‘Tempted into temping’ to everyone Down Stairs. 

Beezlebub has known about their Arrangement for _ centuries _ prior. 

Beezlebub has had to listen to stories about trying to convince Aziraphale for help in King Arthur’s time. Beezlebub has had to listen to how the _ charming adorable angel _ offered to tempt him into Oysters ( _ “And it was adorable!” He wailed, drunk out of his mind while they drank to oblivion in Egypt shortly after that exact encounter _ ). _ Beezlebub _ had to listen to the garden story. _ Beezlebub _ had to listen about the bookshop opening. _ Beezlebub _ had to listen to the stupid fucking crepe story. 

Hell isn’t Down Stairs anymore. It’s with Beezlebub anytime they feel bad enough for their brother’s lonliness to spend time with him and inevitably listen to him mope about his _stupid_ _angel_. 

It’s not all bad. The stories are entertaining enough the first time around (_ not the 100th, but Crowley hasn’t learned that _ ), and Crowley supplies them with good alcohol, and good food, whenever the mood suits them. And for all the bloody moping, Beezlebub is aware that the Angel probably feels the same, because they cannot imagine _ anyone _ putting up with Crowley for thousands of years _ voluntarily _. 

_ They _ do not count - they and Crowley are two sides of the same coin, they are intertwined, sworn to the same duty to their King and Queen. They will _ always _ be there for one another, which is why Beezlebub is the only one to know every fucking sordid detail that they really didn’t want to know. Because they are all Crowley has, and vice versa. 

And Crowley is lonely, and deserves someone to listen. Even if it means having to hear the _ stupid fucking Paris story again _.

Years later, Beezlebub is in Aziraphale and Crowley’s library, enjoying tea. They’ve been married a month now, and have finally started allowing people into their home. (_ And Beezlebub is not thinking about what they have been doing for a month, because this is their brother _ ). Crowley is getting food, because he promised alcohol and only _ he _ knows the way Beezelbub likes it. 

“I’m glad you could join us,” Aziraphale says. He’s sitting down when they walk in, and doesn’t rise to greet them, and Beezlebub is tempted to turn around and leave forever before letting themselves think why that may be. 

But that’s not the angel’s fault. And he’s done nothing but be a valuable member of the Royal Family, which he is now. So Beezelbub returns an “Of course,” and sits down.

“Would you consider joining the book club?” Aziraphale asks, “Or perhaps coming by more? I feel like I hardly know you.”

Beezelbub lets out a snort. “Because your husband’s _ stupid _ .” They say. Both ignore the _ ‘hey _!’ that gets called out. 

“And ‘sides,” Beezlebub says, “I know all about _ you _.” 

Aziraphale splutters. “Whatever do you mean?” 

Pointedly, Beezlebub ignores a ‘_ Shut up Bee! _’ and presses on. “Who do you think Crowley went pining to all those times before you finally gave up the ghost and boned him?”

They laugh at the face Aziraphale makes. Maybe Beezlebub _ should _ be coming around more. The angel looks adorable when flustered. Crowley has come back in, fuming at them. 

“I regret inviting you.” He snaps, passing Beezlebub the drink they wanted. 

“I regret sharing a job with you,” They return, thanking Crowley for the drink and taking a sip. 

Crowley sits next to Aziraphale, handing him a sandwich. Somehow, the angel manages to lean against the demon _ and _ look refined while eating. 

“Dearest, did you used to talk about us to Beezlebub?” Aziraphale asks, and Crowley shrugs. 

“A bit,” He says, wrapping an arm around the angel. Beelzebub laughs. And laughs. And laughs and laughs and laughs and laughs. 

“_ A bit? _ !” They cry out, “You wouldn’t _ shut up _ ! I had to hear about Oysters and Crepes and Shakespeare and the Garden for _ thousands of years _! Why do you think I gave all those photos to Dagon to force it out of you!” 

They both freeze. 

“You… you did _ what _?” Crowley splutters.

“Of course I did,” Beezelbub rolls their eyes, “If you were this insufferable_ in proximity _ to the angel, how would it be when the apocalypse came and you had to seperate? I’d have to listen to you complain and mope for _ eternity _.” 

Aziraphale’s jaw drops. “So you did this on purpose!” He gasps, “You helped Crowley share the arrangement, helped him prepare everyone Down Here for me.”

“I did what I had to do,” Beezlebub acknowledges, recalling. “It was also nice that he had other people to repeat the stories to. I didn’t have to hear about Paris with _ Hastur _ asking every five damned minutes.” 

Crowley curses loudly in that moment, making Aziraphale jump and Beezelbub almost spill their drink. 

“And it was _ your _ idea to tell everyone here we were engaged, in the beginning,” He presses, “Why?”

“You built him up here as someone to know, you think no one was going to want him?” Beelzebub asked. Crowley had no answer, and they rolled their eyes again. “I told you to set your claim, and you did. It is not _ my _ fault you didn’t ask him first.” 

“I don’t need this from _ you _,” Crowley snapped, but Beezlebub just raised an eyebrow. 

Aziraphale looks stunned, and then pleased. He finishes his sandwich and beams at them. “My dear, I believe we have you to thank for, well, everything.” The grateful look in his eyes makes the other prince uncomfortable, and they look away. 

“Well, it’s not like I did everything,” They say, suddenly feeling self-conscious. The admiration of an angel tends to do that. “I only helped design the library here.” 

“You married _ me,” _ Crowley hissed, not liking the look in Aziraphale’s eyes in that moment. Beezelbub laughs when they see what has their brother so irritated. The angel is looking almost _ besotted _. 

“You really did cause all of this,” Aziraphale says, giving them a wide smile. “Thank you.”

Beezlebub smirks back at the angel. Their words last month, the night before their wedding, echo for both Princes. 

That if Beelzebub had been the one Upstairs, that maybe _ they _ would be the one marrying the Angel. It’s not true, it would never have happened. Beezlebub isn’t sure they would like getting married, or ending up with someone. But it was fun to make Crowley mad. Just like it was fun to make him mad now. 

“It’s nice to be appreciated,” They purr, and delight at the demon’s scowl. 

  
Maybe Beezlebub _ should _ come by more often, if it’s always this entertaining.


	2. Ligur and the Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Ligur went from distrusting an Angel to reluctantly respecting him to volunteering as his bodyguard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an introspective for Ligur, that really helped me get into his headspace more in the sequel! You don't need to know anything about the sequel to read this - this is a look into Ligur's mind in the first story, and is a good prequel to the sequel. Should this have gone up first? Maybe. Am I writing out of order? Yes.

Ligur and Hastur have been married for as long as either can bother to remember. They have different hobbies - Ligur is more bloodthirsty, by far. Hastur likes morbid humor. But they have certain hobbies that they will do together, and their properly demonic interests help them build off of each other to be proper Demonic couple. It helps keep the spark alive, and that’s what it takes to make any marriage work. It’s true for mortals, and it’s true for them. 

In the middle of the night, they enjoy taking moonlight lurks in cemeteries, lighting the occasional town on fire, tempting public figures to sin, inspiring pollution or disease in major towns, and comparing their own Deeds to see whose was more evil. It's all about the hobbies. 

It was an easy life for two demons, and it was _theirs_. And Hastur knew Ligur, and Ligur knew Hastur. 

And then Prince Crowley  _ cocked _ it all _right up. _

\--------

Ligur is off spreading pollution in the United States when Crowley starts to tell Downstairs about an angel he’s been corrupting. Hastur tells him all about it when he returns, and the two of them share a laugh at the dumb angel from Upstairs that was tricked into making ‘friends’ with a demon. What _kind_ of being - even the kind from upstairs, just goes along with a _demon_? For _friendship_? They laugh about it, and that becomes a new hobby for them. 

It’s all great fun for Ligur to listen to Crowley describe the temptations the angel does, and how he’s winning points for Down Stairs all the while. He laughs about it with Hastur, starting to understand why his partner has such a morbid sense of humor, but over time he begins to notice something that he _doesn’t_ recognize.

There’s a strange _yearning_ that begins to take over Hastur’s face, over the years that Crowley tells the stories. When he tells the Paris one, and Crowley gets to the part where the angel swaps clothing with the executioner, Hastur excitedly laughs like he’s always hearing it for the first time. It's not. It's one of the more popular ones, and Crowley repeats it more then once. And Ligur starts to realize that Hastur is one of the demons to ask, _voluntarily_, and he's asking not to _mock_ but asking _genuinely_. 

“What kind of Angel thinks up a twist like that?” He laughs, and if Ligur didn’t know any better, he would say that it sounded… _fond_. 

But that would be crazy. That’s not his Hastur. 

Except it fucking  _ was _ .

Hastur starts to obsess over this _stupid_ angel. When Crowley comes down with a new story, Hastur listens, attentively. When Ligur starts to laugh at the angel, Hastur shushes him and tells him to listen. 

Other demons do the same, but Ligur doesn’t give shit about them. Ligur has only ever given a shit about Hastur. 

And Hastur is getting obsessed over some stupid Angel. 

That isn't their hobby. That isn't proper Demonic behavior. 

Whole world’s gone insane. 

As they plot their attack over heaven, Crowley informs them of a trap he and Aziraphale have set out to lure Sandalphon into Hell. Ligur highly doubts that the angel had anything to do with it, and that is why he volunteers to go help Crowley bring in the archangel. Hastur meanwhile has fought - _literally_, he _fought_ people - for the right to bring Aziraphale to the throne room. 

Ligur remains fairly unimpressed when he comes face to face with the infamous angel. But he's outnumbered, and he is a smart demon. For that reason he keeps his dislike subtle when the Angel is lounging on Prince Crowley during their court sessions. (Not too subtly, because he is a smart demon but not a self-aware one). If it were up to him, if he had proper say in Court, he would have perhaps joined Bane in questioning the Angel's loyalty more openly. When he does, part of Ligur is silently agreeing. Only he’s not really a Lord, he has Lord Andras above him for that, and he’s only in Courts because of his husband the Duke. So he indulges Hastur whenever he runs after the Angel, and Ligur does a healthy amount of glaring to make sure the angel knows that when he betrays them, Hastur is off limits. Or Ligur will end him. 

Ligur painstakingly stands against the walls in the library while he listens to Aziraphale give out a bunch of books, and instructs them all to read so they can _talk_ about what they read. 

It’s  _ disgusting _ . It's not proper demonic behavior. They haven’t visited a Pit, or gone on a lurk since the angel arrived and the whole war started. 

But Hastur is _happy_, and Ligur can reluctantly admit, Aziraphale remains perfectly polite and friendly. Never once does he look exasperated, or demean, or is rude in any way to Hastur. And Ligur is perceptive - he is a smart demon. He can see quite clearly that the Angel is stressed out to be in Hell. That his woefully unprepared for Court life. Ligur doesn’t know what he and Prince Crowley got up to in all the years they knew each other, but Aziraphale is clearly in over his head. And Ligur knew that when someone was overwhelmed, lashing out was the easiest way to feel better. And Ligur cares about Hastur, but knows that the Duke can require a lot of energy. But Aziraphale takes it in stride, and always makes time for him. 

At first, he thought it was a bleeding heart _angel_ thing, but he came to learn that most angels were also quick to lash out, smite, sneer, and fight. This was an _Aziraphale_ thing. 

It was… well. It was probably _nice_, which was just disgusting. 

So he can _respect_ Aziraphale, but he doesn’t _like_ him. It’s why he needles the angel into going to the Pits when they catch him alone, without his Princely minder. Clearly the Angel doesn’t want to go. But Hastur is too starstruck to notice, and Ligur is too much of a bastard to care. Part of him wants to needle the Angel, and really test his loyalties. 

Turns out bringing him there saved _their_ lives, nearly at the expense of _his_ own. 

Ligur watches in amazement as Aziraphale takes a sword, prepared to defend demons who had given their word to his partner. Aziraphale takes the time to _warn them_ of upcoming danger. The angel instructs him and Hastur to get help, recognizing their reticence to be anywhere near a sighting of Holy Water. A lump begins to form uncomfortably in his throat - it’s a feeling he doesn’t like and has never felt before. 

Later, the Queen tells him, when he becomes Lord after Andras is killed, he learned that what he had felt was guilt. 

He’d underestimated the angel. The brave, stupid angel who nearly died that day. He sits at the table, in Aziraphale and Crowley's odd place, watching the Angel hold his own against the _King_, but Ligur can see the toll it takes on him. Aziraphale is far stronger than Ligur had imagined. It’s half the reason he lets Hastur spend so much time there after everyone else has left, trying to reassure Aziraphale that the public opinion of him is so much stronger. Maybe Aziraphale deserves to hear something good. And if it has the added bonus of annoying Crowley, who very obviously wants them to _leave_ so he can fuck the angel, that's just an added bonus for him. Ligur is still a _proper_ demon. 

But in a not very Proper Demonic move, he does volunteer that he would be more open to participating in Aziraphale's little book club. He figures that he owes the angel one. It had nothing to do with seeing how excitedly they all yelled about the last one. Nothing to do with that at all. 

Ligur doesn’t know when it happened, but he starts to _like_ the fucking Angel. They ride into battle together, and of course Hastur shields them all with a barricade. Finally, they let themselves ride _free_, and he gets to give several left arms for the privilege. It feels good to let lose, and that helps him release some of the rage he had been unknowingly taking out on the Angel. 

Then he watches Aziraphale _take down_ Gabriel, and starts to understand why their Prince was so infatuated in the first place. 

Weeks later, Crowley and Aziraphale celebrate their wedding, and it’s during the disco after the ceremony that Ligur notices Lord Bane disappear, scowling, only to reappear, looking sinister. Years ago, Ligur would have joined that. Now, he’s thinking of the best way to warn the Princes. 

All three of them, as far as he’s concerned. 

Whole world's gone insane. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! I am not ready to close this story, so whatever you want to see, let me know!


	3. Anxiety no-more?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing like telling someone 'no more anxiety' to give them LOTS of anxiety
> 
> This takes place before 'The Power, The Status" and while they are traveling the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!! This is a chapter that focuses on Aziraphale's anxiety - it's been requested by several different people, and it's something that I really wanted to explore more. 
> 
> Also art imitates life and I am RIDDLED WITH ANXIETY! 
> 
> Would love to get prompts!! Comment with requests or reach out to me on Tumblr at GoodOmensAndRecreation 
> 
> The route they are taking is real, but I made their cabin on the train a little nicer then what an actual eurostar rail would look like because they have standards: https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&source=images&cd=&ved=2ahUKEwiegJGtrZDkAhVIgK0KHfLJCIIQjRx6BAgBEAQ&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.tripstodiscover.com%2Fmost-luxurious-sleeper-trains-in-the-world%2F&psig=AOvVaw2g8MxuPiTuOjXWPMjcvSTK&ust=1566352831276554

Crowley wanted to give Aziraphale three anxiety free years. 

That more than anything is what triggers his next attack. 

_ To The World _ . That’s what they promised each other. And Crowley had done that so  _ beautifully _ . The idea of traveling the world together, and seeing everything they worked so hard to try and save, it was such a poetically beautiful thing to do with their time. 

What did Aziraphale try to do? Put them in a cottage in the English countryside. Hardly,  _ ‘the world’ _ . He gave himself a little eye roll, catching the attention of the very demon he was regarding. It's easy enough to do, cramped as they are. Crowley had surprised him with tickets that track the route of the Orient Express, given how entranced with the book Aziraphale had pretended to  _ not _ be. They're in a first class cabin, because they both have rather exacting standards, but a luxury Eurostar sleeper cabin does not account for much these days. A quick miracle from Crowley made it quite the lovely room with a beautiful couch and bed. Crowley was just so _thoughtful_ that way, and Aziraphale was just so lucky to have him. What did he even do deserve such a wonderful demon? He was a sorry excuse of an Angel and a partner! 

“You're doubting yourself again. You know how I don't like that," Crowley growls, narrowing his eyes. 

They were sitting next to each other. Aziraphale had returned from the food car of the train with various snacks and a few bottles of wine. It was going to be a long train ride - the more bottles the better. Crowley had opened one, and they laughed over the terrible quality and passed the bottle back and forth. 

"Dreadfully sorry, my dear," Aziraphale apologizes, flushing ever so slightly at the _growl_. "I was just reflecting on how _lovely_ this has all been - just getting to travel so -  _ freely _ \- with you, after  _ everything _ ." 

Despite not going into the  _ everything _ Crowley knows exactly what he means. All the times they had to deny their friendship, claim that they did not like each other. Aziraphale had been better at doing it more vocally, but it hurt them both each time. Usually during pauses in between moments they were occupied, Aziraphale would start to remember those moments he had said such awful things to Crowley. And if Crowley didn’t do something, the thoughts would just spiral until the Angel made himself sick over it, unable to do anything until the thoughts just left of their own volition. 

Which wouldn’t do at all. 

“Well, we have right now,” Crowley said, shifting over to properly lean over him. Contact helps when he gets into states like this, it helps keep him grounded. Aziraphale leans back into him, nuzzling to get as close as he possibly can.

“I love you,” Aziraphale whispered, “I’m so, so sorry I was so cruel to you.”

“It wasn’t your choice,” Crowley argues, but the angel shakes his head. 

“You were never so cruel to me,” Aziraphale says, “And I just… I just  _ took you for granted _ .” 

Crowley _hates_ the devastated look on his face. 

Aziraphale can feel it - the awful, hot guilty feeling that is  _ consuming  _ him. He’s caught up now in all the terrible things he used to say, how they  _ weren’t friends _ , how they _ didn’t know each other _ , how he  _ didn’t even like him _ , how he was constantly saying ‘ _ it’s over _ ’, how he  _ wouldn’t go off with him _ , calling him those atrocious names, how he’d said ‘ _ you go to fast for me _ ’, how he would-

“Hey, hey, Angel, darling, love, no more of those tears.” Crowley shushed him, cupping his face in his hands and began brushing away his tears with his thumbs. Aziraphale hadn’t realized he’d been crying. Crowley wrapped his arms around him, pulling them both down so the demon could lie on his back with his favorite angel on him. 

Aziraphale stammered, trying to find purchase on his chest. “Oh! I-I’m  _ sorry  _ \- I’ve just been remembering how  _ awful- _ ”

“I’d thank you not to talk about my best friend and lover like that.” Crowley said sternly, giving him a firm kiss, then laying a much more gently one on his forehead, and then temple. He pulled the angel back in, letting the rocking of the train be the only sound for a moment. 

“Aziraphale, we didn’t have a choice, and I never once blamed you for any of it. You had to say what you did, you think I don’t know that? You think I didn't have to do the same? Do you think I'm not clever enough to understand that?” 

Aziraphale’s voice is muffled from where he’s pressed against Crowley’s chest, but the demon can make out what he says perfectly. “You’re very clever.”

“Exactly,” He replies. “And you know who’s cleverer than I?” Aziraphale stays silent, and Crowley slowly begins to squeeze him, letting a little of his Demonic Strength come into play so he can properly _menace_ the angel. Aziraphale tries not to react, but Crowley knows he is trying not to smile. He lets himself _keep_ squeezing. 

Finally, he breaks Aziraphale, who is half-laughing, half-crying, and halfheartedly unsuccessfully trying to wiggle away from him. “Is it me?” He finally asks, blushing at the words. 

“See? I  _ knew  _ you were the smart one,” Crowley rewards him by gently tilting up his his chin to give him a kiss that gets returned, and they’re both smiling when they separate. 

It’s not a permanent fix, but this isn’t something that gets a permanent fix - and Crowley’s been around long enough to know that. It’s something that will continue for the rest of their lives. They will have good moments, where they can laugh as their train breaks down in a few hours in the snow with no worries, and bad moments, like what they just had. 

But this is Aziraphale, and _all_ of this is Aziraphale, and Crowley has loved him for thousands of years and is unafraid to love him for a thousand more. 

And that's the speech he _plans_ on giving to propose to Aziraphale, but the Angel is just so excited when the train breaks down because it's just like the book, and they get to distracted christening the room and Crowley unfortunately forgets. 

It's no matter. He'll get to it soon. He has time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think?


	4. Power Outage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale is in a particular mood this morning.
> 
> And all the power in Hell goes out as a result.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a request from Lindariddle, who gave me the following prompt: 
> 
> "Aziraphale, for what ever reason, decides to wake Crowley up with a blow job. . . .and he is GOOD at it. And he is dirty talking to his demon, all "you are the best thing I Have Ever Eaten, better than flan, oysters. . . . . .all the stuff Crowley knows he LOVES. . . . By the time Zira lets him cum (and it has been a while) Crowley is so over the edge, that there is a Demonic Power Surge and he disrupts like that whole level of Hell. Later on the book club is trying to tease Aziraphale, thinking it was him and he just throws Crowley under the bus. And EVERYONE is even more impressed with Aziraphale."
> 
> I just took it and went with it! I had a lot of fun writing this one :)

It’s a rather pleasant Saturday to be waking up. Most of the Saturdays have been, down in Hell, which is a delightful oxymoron for Aziraphale to ponder when he is in the right mood. 

Aziraphale  _ does _ wake up in the right mood, but not really one to be pondering the ethical dilemma of finding Hell a pleasant place to be. 

No, he’s more in the mood for something more… _interesting_. 

The Angel opens his eyes, taking a moment to just smile and inhale gently. His face is resting comfortably on Crowley’s shoulder, and he really just wants to  _ savor _ the view he is treated to of his Demon’s chest. Of the sensation of his head _exactly_ where it is, of Crowley’s body intertwined with his. Neither of them are wearing anything, due to amorous overtures that were had the night prior. It had been so _lovely_. 

Last night Crowley had ordered and threatened the book club _out_, and they had eaten dinner  _ on their bed.  _ The Demon had prepared little sandwiches and finger foods, and they had fed each other. Finally, Crowley had laid him down, and ate  _ him _ . It was simply  _ divine _ , but now Aziraphale felt similarly  _ hungry _ , and wanted to return the favor. 

Very gently, he began pressing chaste kisses against his Demon’s shoulder. Slowly, he shifted himself down, trying to move as fluidly as he could. Aziraphale made to  _ savor _ Crowley’s skin, and the way his love unconsciously shifted and moved for him. 

How was Aziraphale supposed to resist this delectable demon? By not resisting at all. He had spent six thousand _years_ depriving himself from any deep physical connection, not wanting to consort with a poor human and then deal with the heartache of the inevitable end. But then he and Crowley _confessed_, and it was as if the floodgates were open. 

His demon liked getting to take charge, getting to _hold_ Aziraphale in one place, and ask him to be _good_, and to reward him appropriately. And for an Angel that always felt like he was doing the wrong thing, and was being constantly judged, it was such a  _ relief _ to have someone tell him what to do and  _ reward _ him for it. But on a rare occasion, like now, Aziraphale felt the need to turn the tide and have Crowley under  _ him _ for a change. 

Crowley had been having a confusing dream about ducks flying in space when he started feeling himself involuntarily wake up. He let out a protesting groan, and heard a soothing “ _ shhhh _ ” in response. Followed immediately by several kisses being placed on his stomach and hips.

That made his eyes snap  _ wide _ open. 

“_Aziraphale_?” He half-gasped, half-moaned.

The Angel gave a pleased little hum, and smiled up at him. “Good morning Crowley,” He said, and Crowley’s reply was lost as Aziraphale tipped his head down to nuzzle his cock. 

“ _ Gnk _ ,” Was his answer, and if he were a little more awake, a little more aware, and a little less turned the  _ fuck on _ , he would take retribution for the answering chuckle he got. 

“I’m  _ so _ glad you could wake up just in time,” Aziraphale continued, shifting himself further south to place kisses around his thighs. “You know, you’re  _ always _ on me, and I  _ love _ that my darling, but have I ever told you just how  _ lovely _ you do taste?” 

Was he expecting to have a  _ conversation _ ? Crowley meant to reply but then Aziraphale promptly and with  _ no _ warning enveloped the head of his dick into his mouth. 

So Crowley gave an appreciative choked off moan, thrusting his hips a little. Aziraphale made no move to hold him down - on the contrary, he gave an encouraging him and  _ sucked _ . 

“Because you are so _delightful_,” Aziraphale continued, pulling off his cock despite a loud protest from his love. “I know I do go on about crepes, and ice cream, and sushi, but my darling, not a  _ one _ compares to  _ you _ . I hope you know that.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” He panted, breaking off into another moan as Aziraphale descended on him again. The angel did not seem to be in a teasing mood. He took him as far down his throat as he could, squeezing whatever he couldn’t fit in his hand. Aziraphale made a repetition out of it, going down to focus only on the head, and _stroking_ with his hand. 

The pleasure built higher and higher from Crowley, who had reached down to fist Aziraphale’s curls in his hand in warning. 

He shouldn’t have done that, because the moment Aziraphale realized what he was doing the angel pulled _off_. 

“I also wanted to just say,” Aziraphale added, openly smirking at the shocked _moan_ he got from Crowley as a result, “That when we shared oysters, that first time - do you remember dear?”

With that he fell silent, and Crowley had to frantically  _ nod _ .  _ Anything _ to get him to  _ continue _ ! 

“Thank you,” The angel - the  _ bastard _ \- beamed. “I couldn’t help but wonder if you knew they were an aphrodisiac? And how I couldn’t  _ help _ but wonder if maybe later my temptation could have  _ convinced _ you to… something  _ else _ ?  _ No _ one makes oysters like Petronius did, but I just had a feeling that you would still taste  _ so _ much better. And I was right!” 

This was a lie - Aziraphale hadn’t known about oysters in that way. Not until Crowley told him much much later. But the tasting thing could easily have been true, even if the angel didn’t have the experience at the time to know what tasting would have _really_ consisted of. But if Aziraphale wanted to have a fantasy, then by _Someone_ Aziraphale would  _ get _ to have a fantasy. 

He leaned down to gently place kisses over Crowley’s cock, which had begun to soften from complete lack of stimulation. Slowly, he started to work Crowley up  _ again,  _ taking him in with _no _gag reflex  and this time in a desperate attempt to come the Demon did not reach for him this time. 

But it still didn’t _work_, and a devastated moan escaped from Crowley without his permission. Unknown to them, the lights in there home flickered, and continued on as normal. 

“Did you know,” And it wasn’t fair how casual Aziraphale sounded, from where he lounged, placing kisses and little bites to his thighs, “I didn’t really  _ mean _ to go all the way to Paris just for  _ food _ .”

If Crowley were less mad with lust, and more aware and capable of speech, the answer he gave would have been more like “No _shit_ angel.” But he was being driven mad with  _ lust _ , and a desperate need to  _ come _ , and in no way capable of speech. His dick was  _ softening _ and Aziraphale was just being _too much_. 

So he replied, “ _ Hnd _ .” 

Aziraphale absent-mindedly stroked a thigh, smiling at him. “I missed you,” He admitted. Crowley took deep breaths, trying to focus more. This felt important. 

“I missed you, and I needed you, and I _knew_ it was because I loved you,” Aziraphale kept pressing kisses to his stomach, as if he weren’t ripping the carpet from right under the demon. “But I wanted to know you would come for me, and oh you did, and I don’t think I’ve ever really thanked you properly.” 

_ You did, you have,  _ Crowley thought, but that reply got cut off as Aziraphale took him with his mouth again. 

Crowley expected him to pull off this time, which was why he didn’t make a move to thrust up, or pull Aziraphale by the hair. It only made the Angel devour him that much more, and the Demon’s moans reached a crescendo that he hadn’t hit in a _while_. 

Unknown to either of them, it made the lightbulb above their head _glow_ \- along with every other light fixture in their home. 

Aziraphale gave tentative hums, stroking the rest of him with his hand. With his other, he reached below Crowley’s length to gently press his thumb against the skin he found, and Crowley’s vision went  _ white _ as he  _ finally _ came. 

Their lightbulb - all of them - exploded. Neither noticed, nor cared. 

Crowley rode it out, and Aziraphale took everything down, not letting up until the Demon weakly pushed his head  _ off _ of him. 

Aziraphale reluctantly let himself be pulled away, looking down at his handiwork. Crowley looked absolutely  _ wrecked _ , and he gave a delighted little wiggle before snuggling into his chest again, just like how he’d woken up. 

“How was that?” He asked, and Crowley gave a snort. 

“You know the answer, you _brat_,” Was the answer, and Aziraphale gave a self-satisfied hum. 

It was then that they both noticed the darkness of the room, and the absence of any working light fixtures. 

Crowley looked at Aziraphale. Aziraphale looked at Crowley. 

“You don’t think…” The Angel wondered.

“_Nahh_,” Crowley said, but he did not sound all that sure. 

\----

Court was not held that day. Apparently there were no working light fixtures on that entire level of Hell. When Dagon told Aziraphale this, the Angel laughed. Very hard. 

Dagon stared at him in confusion, and a _little_ bit of fear. Only Hastur had that same odd sense of humor, and he tended to set fires when he got that amused. The Angel was still unpredictable to her. 

“Thank you for letting us know,” Aziraphale said, once he calmed down. “Crowley is asleep at the moment, but I’ll let him know when he wakes up.”

Asleep? Since when did demons need sleep? Dagon wondered, but didn’t feel like asking. 

“Do come by later though,” Aziraphale said kindly, “My book club is going to start reading Pride and Prejudice.” 

\-----

The Demonic Book Club was one of Aziraphale’s favorite parts about Hell, after spending time with Crowley, of course. It was so nice to spend time with others without getting distracted by movies or television shows and discuss books so closely. And the demons were so passionate about the novels, and held absolutely nothing back if they did or did _not_ like a book. 

Until now Crowley had been the only person he really went to when he wanted to talk about books. The Demon was wonderfully doting, and would listen of course, but he never had much to share one way or another because he 'didn't read.' 

But _these_ demons always had such strong opinions and they loved to challenge the plots of Aziraphale’s favorite novels, and he _loved_ it. 

Which was why he was so sad that they did not seem inclined to belay into the actions of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, and wanted to talk about the _power failure_. 

“It’s _never_ happened down here!” Legion told him, adding several spoonfuls of sugar to her tea. At this point she was just drinking sugar, but it made her happy and it wasn't like she had any dentist appointments coming up. 

“It went out even in our home,” Hastur added, and Aziraphale had expected  _ more _ from him. 

_ Especially _ because yesterday the Demon had  _ rushed _ over to Aziraphale’s quarters the moment he’d read the part when Elizabeth _eviscerated_ Darcy, telling him that he was the last man she could ever want to marry and they had  _ laughed _ about it until Crowley had thrown him out. 

Well, there was always tomorrow. Aziraphale took a biscuit from the plate next to him and decided to play along. 

“What do you think caused it?” He asked. 

That was met with total silence. Several of the demons shifted, but many were smirking or snickering to each other. 

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow, not understanding why all the need for subterfuge now. 

“Well?” He asked, finishing it and reaching for another. 

Ligur snorted. He was leaning against the wall, and was very intentionally _not_ reading the book. He was only there for Hastur, and had made that perfectly clear more then once. “You think we don’t know?” He sneered. 

“Don’t know _what_?” Aziraphale asked, giving him an annoyed look. 

“Well-” Hastur was quick to interject. He didn’t want them to get into a verbal fight. Again. “The timing is just weird. We’ve never had a power outage… we’ve also never had an angel down here before. And it's not like Prince Crowley has made it a secret that you're his.”

"And he's always in such a hurry to make us leave," Morningstar added, "And we're not dumb, this had to be something he did to you." 

Aziraphale stared at them blankly. Then he burst into laughter to the _shock_ of everyone there. 

“What,” The Angel laughed, “You think it happened because of  _ me _ ?” 

“The most violent explosions came from  _ this _ direction,” Dagon said, sounding almost petulant. This must be her theory then, Aziraphale surmised. 

“My dear,  I can _assure_ you,” Aziraphale finished a third biscuit, and reached for his teacup. “_I_ did _no_ such thing.” 

“Well it had to be  _ someone _ !” Dagon defended, and they were all interrupted to see Crowley come in. 

“Hello everyone,” The Demon said, which put them all on guard. Crowley _never_ greeted them. He always acted annoyed that they were in his home, talking to his Aziraphale. He sauntered, walking rather  _ odd _ \- more than  _ usual _ \- to peck Aziraphale on the head. 

“Nice to have a day off,” He said, picking a biscuit off his plate. The Demon leaned closer to whisper to Aziraphale, whispering. “I’ll make you lunch. And don’t think I won’t get you back for earlier.” 

“Of course dear,” Aziraphale waved him off. “Thank you.” 

Crowley gave a small salute, and did a mix between sauntering and walking in a  _ bowlegged _ fashion out of the room. 

One by one, it started to sink in for the demons what _actually_ happened. And who _really_ caused the outage. 

One by one, they all turned to look at Aziraphale in various stages of  _ shock _ and  _ awe _ . 

It took every ounce of Ligur’s core to not laugh at the satisfied smirk Aziraphale had as he raised his cup, and took a long sip. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it!


	5. All About Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eve has an animal nature, and by someone Crowley is going to figure out what it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are just a few of my thoughts about their baby girl!!!! I'm so excited to post this. 
> 
> Part of this answers a prompt request where they take her up to Earth for the first time, which does get addressed here!!

In the first few weeks after Eve is born, Crowley starts to lean in to his serpent nature in a more obvious way. Namely, he becomes a serpent more. 

The first time it happens, she is a few days old, and Aziraphale is reading  _ Winnie the Pooh _ to her. They have a few days before presenting her to the Court, and Aziraphale doesn’t want to put her down for one  _ moment _ . Even when he gets tired - he still fights to hold her. It’s led to Crowley gently pulling her away and  _ forcing _ him to bed, but he’s feeling perfectly fine  _ now _ . He’s fed her, changed her, and now she’s dozing on him while he reads his favorite book for young infants. 

Eventually they will work their way to Jane Austen when she’s a few years older. Then the Bronte sisters, and so on. 

While he reads, he senses Crowley’s presence in the library but can’t actually he  _ see _ his husband. In a moment, he understands why. 

Crowley doesn’t usually make a habit of appearing in his snake form, but that’s how he is appearing  _ now _ , slithering along to join them in the arm chair. 

“This is your daddy,” He cooes to their baby, who is wide-eyed in fascination. Most children are scared of snakes, but Eve isn’t old enough to have many opinions on things that frighten her. So far, she loves being held, does  _ not _ like having her feathers preened, and enjoys hearing Aziraphale or Crowley speak to her as she settles to sleep. 

Crowley slithers up, wrapping around Aziraphale and very  _ gently _ resting his head near her own. Eve doesn’t have the muscle dexterity to pet him, but he is fascinating, colorful, and long - all the things that she seems to like. 

Aziraphale reads to them both, heart melting as Crowley gently noses her. 

\-----

The Demon makes a habit of playing with her when he’s a snake. As she starts to more successfully hold herself up, Crowley will circle her, much to her delight. When they decide to start encouraging her to crawl, Aziraphale will lay her on her tummy, and Crowley will make exaggerated slithering motions to encourage her to move and wiggle. He likes to say that he has a hand in it when she begins to crawl at four months - on the earlier side for an infant to be sure. 

It’s adorable, and Aziraphale actually suspects he may be right. 

Something that strikes him though is that Crowley is always careful to transform in  _ front _ of Eve. Not in the beginning, when she couldn’t see more than six inches away and didn’t know who they were yet. But when she starts to recognize them from a distance, and reach for them with and understanding that they were important to her, Aziraphale notices that Crowley will make a show of getting on his hands and knees and transforming into a snake to play with her. 

“I know what you’re doing,” Aziraphale says to him on day. Their baby is asleep in Crowley’s coils, and they are laying together on their favorite couch in the library. Slowly, Crowley begins to adjust himself and appears as man-shaped before him. 

“What do you think I’m doing?” He asks, settling Eve on his chest. 

“You want to encourage her to  _ transform _ into a snake,” Aziraphale teases. 

Crowley resolutely does  _ not _ blush. “That is  _ not _ it!” He hisses, and Aziraphale gives a giggle. 

“It  _ is _ !” The Angel presses, joining them both on the couch. Crowley grumbles but still makes room for him. 

“It’s alright,” Aziraphale is quick to reassure. “I think it’s adorable. But we don’t know if she will have an animal tendency, let alone if it’s a snake. I just don’t want you or her to be disappointed.” 

“But she has  _ my _ eyes,” Crowley defends, and it’s true. Not the color - Eve’s eyes have stayed the same shade of blue as her mother’s. But the pupil has become more pronounced to look just like her father’s. “What else could it be?”

“Whatever it is, we best not rush it.” Aziraphale gently strokes her arm, and lightly ghosts a hand over her little feathers. 

“She’s still very little.” 

Crowley nods, leaning on the Angel. 

\------

The truth is revealed at Book Club. 

Beelzebub has successfully convinced everyone to read  _ The Hobbit _ , which Aziraphale allows because it is an acceptable children’s book, and would be nice for Eve to hear it read outloud. 

Ligur is finding issue with getting all the dwarve’s names in order, and Dagon is taking issue with Bilbo’s inability to adapt to an adventure when the door bangs open, and Crowley is shooing Hastur away to sit near Aziraphale, his hands holding a small bundle. 

“I was transforming in front of her!” He hisses, “And look!”

Aziraphale gives a gasp, and the others clamber around to see what has their princes so worked up. 

It’s a  _ kitten _ . Little, and gray with light and dark spots. 

“Oh my  _ Eve _ ,” Aziraphale whispers, gently reaching over to stroke her ears and back. 

The kitten gives a plaintive  _ meow _ in reply, and Aziraphale can’t help the laugh that escapes him. 

“Oh she’s  _ beautiful _ ,” Aziraphale cooes, gently taking her from Crowley and cuddling her close. 

“Cats get the same eye shape,” Crowley continues triumphantly, squeezing next to him. “ _ That’s _ why she has my eyes.” 

Her coloring matches her  _ wings _ , and Azirahale can’t help the sniffles that leave his throat without his permission. He just feels so overwhelmed by this new look for his baby. 

“I hope she knows how to turn back,” Hastur says, dubiously. 

Crowley hisses at him in anger, but Aziraphale laughs through a wave of happy tears. 

\-----

Eve somehow knows to transform back when she gets hungry an hour later. Because she can crawl, she’s able to wander about their home as a kitten, which prompts a new kind of panic for her parents in making sure they are watching her constantly. There is a certain speed and dexterity that she is beginning to pick up, and that only heightens the potential danger. Crowley will still slither with her, and coil around her. She likes to lay on her back and bat at him while he pretends to dart at her. At most he’ll nose at her face or paws. 

Sometimes she likes to curl in Aziraphale’s lap, especially when he reads out loud at Book club. 

She loves to stretch out in different areas around the house and lay out, taking naps in the middle of the day. A normal kitten would be left alone, but sometimes mid-sleep she’ll turn back into a child, and neither of them want her to wake up on a hard surface. So intermittently Aziraphale or Crowley would be found scooping her up to carry her back to bed. 

\----

At seven months old, Eve isn’t much of a speaker. She prefers to listen to her parents, loves hearing them either read to her (Aziraphale) or monologue (Crowley). They don’t feel any sort of pressure for her to start speaking. Lilith assures them that she is perfectly fine and healthy, and won’t really start to form words for a while. 

Besides, when she’s a kitten she’s  _ plenty _ talkative. 

That day, Aziraphale had tried to read a passage from  _ The Lord of the Rings _ (Dagon’s pick), only to be interrupted every few seconds by Eve  _ meowing _ at him. She was very  _ clearly _ trying to imitate him, and it was  _ adorable _ . But distracting, which was why he let Beelzebub pick her up to try and soothe her. 

It worked - with someone to give her attention, they were able to continue their discussion about the book, with plans to look at  _ The Two Towers _ for next time. Aziraphale was able to miracle copies for everyone _ (with the funds appearing in the profits for a small independent bookstore, of course)  _ as a result. Miracling was getting easier for him. Just a year ago, such an action would have exhausted him. Now it was nothing. 

The demons file out while he and Hastur speak, and in the distance he could hear Crowley speak with Beelzebub, and assumes incorrectly that they give her back to her father. 

It’s much later when Aziraphale is setting the table that he hears a small  _ meow _ . It’s different then Eve’s usual pitch, but maybe she’s trying voices like he had done earlier. He  _ meows _ back, because she enjoys it when he does that, and gives a little giggle when he gets a  _ meow _ in reply. 

The Angel enjoys the conversation while Crowley cooks. But that joy falls away when he goes to try whatever it is his husband is making and gives a  _ meow _ , and  _ Crowley _ is the one to reply. 

“What are you doing?” Aziraphale asks.

“Talking with our pigeon!” The Demon defends, but then realizes that she isn’t replying. 

“Wait,” He says, starting to look embarrassed, “That was  _ you _ ?” 

“ _ Yes _ !” Aziraphale stresses, “You were holding her after book club!” 

“No I wasn’t - you had her!” Crowley snapped, but he was looking as panicked as the Angel felt. Aziraphale ran to her room as Crowley made to throw open the front door, coming face to face with Dagon.

“I believe I have something of yours,” She says, handing Crowley their human-shaped infant. 

“Satan  _ bless _ ,” He swore, bringing her close. Eve was smiling up at him, unaware of the heart attack she caused her parents. 

“Aziraphale! I have her,” He called, and the Angel ran to him. 

“Oh darling,” And it was a  _ little _ rude the way he just grabbed her from Crowley, pulling her close to him. 

“She was with you?” Crowley asked, letting his anger come through. He was going to Put the Fear Of Crowley into her, for certain.

Dagon snorted and rolled her eyes. “Beelzebub just walked out of here with her, and I warned them not to, but you know how it is.” 

Aziraphale laughed, sounding nearly hysterical. He pressed her close, whispering apologies to their baby that had no idea why anything would be remotely amiss.

Crowley growled, cursing his siblings’ name. They were  _ never _ going to babysit. 

\-----

They bring Eve Up Stairs for the first time when she is four years old. Which, is more years then Aziraphale thought necessary but every other time they had meant to Crowley just got too nervous and  _ couldn't _ bring himself to. 

The Demon was turning into a real helicopter parent, and Aziraphale was touched, truly. 

As Crowley had promised when she was first born, they bring her up to St. James Park. Aziraphale helps her feed the ducks. Her little hands don't have the muscle dexterity to throw very far, but a little miracle from him helps her get some distance.  _ Maybe _ it's cheating, but her little smile and shout are too adorable for words. Eve loves the park. The colors are so green and vibrant - a far cry from all the red and black and heat. The weather is different, the air is fresher. She is part demon, Down Stairs is good for her, but she doesn’t belong in any one world fulltime and it’s so apparent with the wonder that she has in her eyes for everything around them. She’s pointing out everything to him, recognizing the ducks and birds from the books Aziraphale had read so many times to her, and identifying them all for him. 

“That’s a me!” She said, pointing at a pigeon devouring some bread a nearby tourist had thrown, and Aziraphale glared furiously as Crowley laughed and laughed. 

The Demon circles around them in the beginning cautious of their surroundings, before disappearing for a few minutes. Eve is too caught up in their new activity to notice when he leaves, but soon enough he returns with ice cream in a cup, with three spoons. 

Eve  _ loves _ ice cream. At first, when she tries it she makes such a  _ face _ at the temperature, but then she falls in love with the sweetness of it. (“Your kid alright,” Crowley teases, but he’s so happy to watch her joy at trying this for the first time.)But after a few bites she's had enough, and has decided to explore a patch of grass a few feet away from them. She asks permission, and then tells Aziraphale the rest of the ice cream is for him as she runs off. The Angel chuckles, taking it and thanking her. 

"You know," Aziraphale says, looking over at Crowley. The Demon gives a nod to let him know that he's listening, but his eyes are fixed on their daughter, "I've been thinking a bit about the Queen's Blessing." 

_ That _ pulls Crowley's attention to him. 

" _ Oh _ ?" He asks, trying very hard to be Cool and Nonchalant. 

"Yes,  _ oh _ ," Aziraphale teases. "Eve is getting a little older, and I think it might be nice for her to grow up with a sibling. She's rather alone Down Stairs."

"This is still about the school thing, isn't it?" Crowley asks grumpily. 

Aziraphale has no desire to bring up that fight again. "No, no, you made your point quite clear, and I agree there is merit to waiting for her to grow a little more into her powers before going out among mortals. But there are certain mannerisms she has that are resulting from her time Down There."

Crowley gives him a hard look. "Is this because she's getting raised by demons?" He asks. 

The next few words are chosen carefully - Aziraphale knows if he doesn't go about this the right way they will fight. It isn't Crowley's fault - he's on edge because he is scared for Eve and it being her first time Up Here. That's what he tells himself, anyway. Maybe he should have waited until they were back home. 

"When I knew we were going to have a baby," Aziraphale reminds him, "I told you we were in the best place to raise her. And I  _ still _ believe that. That's exactly  _ why _ I want to have another baby with you. I don't want Eve to grow up  _ alone _ . Our family is wonderful, but our girl needs a companion, someone to experience growing up with. Much like how we had each other when we lived On Earth. Could you have imagined doing that alone? Eve is the first, and only, thing like her. She shouldn't have to experience that alone."

Crowley lets out a breath. "She isn't alone, she has us," he argued, but it was a weak one. Aziraphale knows he's gotten through to him. 

"She will have us, but it’s a different connection. I love you," The Angel replies with a smile, "I love how you are with her, and I want us to have another child so they can also have you for a parent."

"Alright,  _ alright _ !" Crowley groans, hiding his face in his hands. "You made your point don't be  _ disgusting _ about it," 

"Wouldn't dream of it dear," Aziraphale replies, looking about for their Eve. 

He spots her trotting over, having turned into her kitten form. It's bigger than it was before, but she isn't a cat just yet. Secretly he hopes that she stays small for a much longer time, it's too adorable. 

"What do you have there my dear?" He asks, noticing that there is  _ something _ in her mouth. 

Crowley looks over as she drops a small  _ frog _ in front of them, giving a satisfied meow. She has never done this before, and they exchange half-amused, half-horrified glances.

The frog hops away, desperately, and Aziraphale quickly scoops her up before she can chase after it into the water. She doesn't know how to swim yet. 

The Demon  _ roars _ with laughter, and Aziraphale holds her close despite her  _ squirming _ . Eve starts meowing pitifully, clearly wanting to bring the frog back to her parents. In her kitten mind, Crowley had brought them all something to snack on, so she had to do the same for them. 

"Oh dear," He says, stroking her back until she settles and starts kneading him out of a desire to not sit still. 

"Alright, alright, I see what you meant about the behavior," Crowley says, looking considerably happier than earlier. He takes her next and gives her a pleased 'boop' on the nose. 

"Let's not tell Hastur," Aziraphale says hastily, and Crowley laughs once more. 

\----- 

Eve sometimes got too overwhelmed by the amount of people in her home, and becoming a cat was an easy enough way to get them to leave her alone.

Crowley was cooking in their kitchen, and she brushed herself against his leg, meowing up at him before going into the library. The Demon smiles after her, knowing better than to call after her. She darted in the library, moving quickly, not giving anyone the chance to pet her. They knew better anyway. 

She brushed by Uncle Hastur's leg, and stopped by the floor where Aziraphale was reading. He was seven months pregnant at this point, and didn't have the flexibility to bend down and pick her up. Determined, Eve wiggled, staring intently at the spot next to him. Her eyes had narrow slits where the pupil would normally be, in her focus to get where her goal was. She  _ jumped _ , landing perfectly next to him. 

Not satisfied, she gave a little  _ trill _ and made a smaller jump, settling gently on top of his belly and curling up. 

Aziraphale had been in the middle of a discussion about The Silmarillion, but paused to give Eve a moment to settle on him.

"Hello my darling," He whispered, gently petting her, and delighted when she began  _ purring _ on top of him. The baby liked it too. 

The Angel let himself wonder, as discussion continued around him, whether the next baby could also be a cat, or maybe a serpent like Crowley, or a new creature altogether. 

  
Aziraphale couldn't  _ wait _ to find out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what requests you have, if any!


	6. Five Times Hastur Cock-Blocked Crowley, and the One Time Aziraphale Wouldn't Let Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a 5 and 1!!! 
> 
> Crowley wants the angel. 
> 
> The angel has a best friend.
> 
> That best friend doesn't understand boundaries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have wanted to write this chapter for SUCH A LONG TIME! I'm back in Grad School full time, and working full time, so it's hard to find the time to write as much as I want to. So I am sorry this was so late :( 
> 
> This takes place before the plot of 'An Angel's Guide to Hell' and well before any of the foursome - we've got peak jealous Crowley out here in full force.

  1. Armageddon, Crowley’s Apartment

The irony is that the first time it happens, Hastur and Aziraphale hadn’t even met yet. Aziraphale and Crowley aren’t even together yet. The world is supposed to be ending.  _ Nothing  _ Crowley has planned is happening the way he thought it would. 

They were supposed to have raised the antichrist to know Good and Evil, and stop the apocalypse on his own. They were supposed to have confessed their feelings and gone off into the stars. They were supposed to be traveling the world together, or settling in a cottage in the South Downs, or anything that wasn't _this. _

Only the antichrist has gone _missing_ and Aziraphale isn't even  _ speaking _ to him! So much for following Beelzebub's advice to 'showing him the stars'. The angel hadn't wanted to go anywhere near Alpha Centauri. Wait. Maybe they had meant to metaphorically offer it. Hm. He couldn't remember. 

Hastur and Ligur, suspecting Crowley of breaking away with their King and Demonic Court, are taking justice into their own hands by hunting him down. It’s a move he knows that is  _ not _ being sanctioned by his sibling, but he has no time to call them and set the record straight.

Instead, he watches as Holy Water falls atop Ligur, dissolving him instantly. (Of course, he’ll come back in a few hours, but no one knows that yet.) 

He’s facing off with Hastur, holding a plant mister the same way James Bond would hold a gun - and somewhere he’s hoping that he looks just as cool. (Beezlebub would say that he does not, but Beezlebub doesn’t know who James Bond is, so they don’t count.) Distantly, he hopes when he tells Aziraphale about this later, he'll sound cool to his angel. (He will.)

That’s when his phone rings, but he doesn’t think to answer it. After the fight he Is Not Thinking About, the only people that will call him are telemarketers or Shadwell, and he feels no rush to talk to either. 

But then his voicemail kicks on and his metaphorical stomach _plummets_ when  _ Aziraphale’s _ voice comes over the line. 

Crowley wants nothing more then to travel through the phone lines and go to his angel, hold him close, confess his feelings, have them make up, and drag him kicking and screaming to Alpha Centauri. 

But  _ Hastur _ is there, and Crowley can’t trust the demon not to try anything (because they are not supposed to go around trusting each other) and he will  _ always _ protect the angel. So he answers with a quick, “Not a good time, catch you later,” and slams the phone down. He has a demon to take out and an angel to get to. 

  1. Singapore, The Three Year Vacation

It’s been one year since the Start of the Rest of Their Lives, and Crowley and Aziraphale _finally_ made it to Singapore. They flew, not _ flew _ flew, but flew like the humans did. Only they flew first class, of course, because if  _ Aziraphale  _ was going to insist they not use their wings and travel '_the human way'_ then  _ Crowley  _ was going to _refuse_ to sit coach. And he dug his heels, because he was not going to let Aziraphale talk him into the  _ experience  _ of coach on an  _ overnight flight _ . Crowley ended up winning when he mentioned the alcohol perks and food, which he  _ should _ have led with in hindsight, knowing his angel as he does. 

They have a lovely flight. The stewardess asks if they would like to have chairs or beds for takeoff, and Crowley is quick to say  _ ‘beds’ _ , and Aziraphale instantly blushes. Crowley spends most of the flight figuring out far down that blush goes ( _ though by now he’s very well aware _ ), and miracles their little room so no one can hear them, and any member of the crew that go to their cabin are somehow convinced that they shouldn’t. Crowley is sure that they have the best initiation to the Mile High Club. 

Arm in arm, they disembark the plane and make quick work of leaving the airport to find the city in front of them. Aziraphale falls in love  _ instantly _ . He cannot get enough of the sights, the sounds, the  _ food _ .

There is so  _ much _ food. Crowley really went off the one popular movie when he put this together (he'd seen it alone on a rare day off, and spent most of it wishing that one day he and Aziraphale could go there together because it looked like that couple enjoyed themselves in the end) but he  _ knew _ that the Angel would like it here. And getting in the habit of eating would come in  _ handy _ for… well for  _ later _ . But that didn't need thinking about, so he ignored it to focus on the moment he was in. 

They explore marketplaces, walk along the iconic lake, and Crowley gets to watch locals excitedly converse with Aziraphale in fluent Cantonese, Malay, and Mandarin -  _ no one  _ expects Aziraphale to be fluent in  _ any _ language, given the Oppressively English Persona he has, but Aziraphale has had luck in picking up most eastern dialects - and is fluent in a majority of languages in the eastern hemisphere and many that are no longer in use. Crowley’s better at French, Italian, and Spanish (and he enjoys speaking in both because of how badly Aziraphale  _ swoons _ ). It’s  _ his _ turn now to swoon, to watch people fawn over his angel and have Aziraphale translate as they are given local recommendations for stalls and places to see. 

It doesn’t matter in that moment that he’d had the Angel a few hours ago - this confidence Aziraphale exudes is so damn sexy that he  _ needs _ to  _ have _ him  _ again _ . 

He successfully pulls the angel away from the latest group he’s speaking with. Crowley wraps his arms around him, beginning to whisper that they should go check into their hotel room so he can give him a  _ reward _ , when he feels a very subtle tremor. Only he can feel it, Aziraphale isn’t quite in tune to this bit of work. And the Demon wants to cry out in frustration. 

Sure enough, when he makes up an excuse to need to go around the corner into an alleyway, he comes face to face with Hastur. The other demon wants to make a report on the timing of the fight with heaven, but Crowley is quick to brush him off. But the mood’s shot, and by the time get gets back to his angel, Aziraphale has been pulled into another conversation about a famous old bookshop nearby they just  _ have _ to go to. 

In hindsight, he should have listened to Hastur’s report on the start date of the next fight. 

  1. Aziraphale’s Library, After Book-Club

Crowley knows that the demonic book club is an ingenious way for Aziraphale to endear himself to the Court. And until they get married, the angel can’t exactly accompany him into the private sessions with the King, Queen, and other Prince, so it’s also a good way for him to pass the time. And it’s a safe activity that doesn’t exacerbate the stab wound. 

(They don’t bandage it anymore, but Crowley struggles sometimes to look at the angel and not be reminded of him on the floor, near death, bleeding out  _ alone _ . Thankfully Aziraphale abandoned the tartan clothing he’d been wearing in favor of the clothes Lilith had made for him, or Crowley really would have never been able to let it go.) 

But when he comes back after a long day of Court and then Private Sessions, sometimes all a demon wants to do is hold his angel close and ignore the world outside their home. 

His needs don’t supersede Aziraphale though, regardless of his royal status. That’s not the foundation of their relationship. So he takes his usual spot next to Aziraphale while the other demons talk around him. They’re reading sonnets by Shakespeare this time, which are more pleasant to his ear then bloody  _ Hamlet _ . He interjects occasionally, mostly letting the others get their say. In the beginning, Aziraphale had had to play a more active role when the other demons didn't feel as emboldened to contribute, that is a far cry from what happens now. With very little prompting they don't have a hard time running with any question or prompt, and are quick to get into any kind of debate to prove a point. Aziraphale loves it, and Crowley loves Aziraphale. It's also entertaining to watch them eviscerate a story that Aziraphale loves, and he enjoys watching his angel's face light up as he debates his own point. 

A few delighted discourses later, and Aziraphale is bidding farewell to the group. He takes them to the door, while Crowley stays in the library. They don't expect him to do any extraneous goodbyes - his socializing time is well and truly done. Crowley gives a satisfied stretch in excitement to _finally_ get to _have _his fiance tonight. He has such _plans_-

No. No.  _ No _ .  _ Shit _ . 

Because  _ now _ he can  _ still _ hear noises that have moved to his  _ kitchen _ , and he just  _ knows  _ that now Aziraphale is putting the kettle on because Hastur and Ligur are _ still here _ . 

This is a  _ thing  _ they do. Hastur and Aziraphale will say goodbye. Then they will walk to the door, still speaking to one another. Then one will bring up a remark they  _ meant _ to share earlier, but  _ forgot _ , and then they will just  _ keep talking. _ Left uninterrupted, they will do this for hours. 

It happened just  _ yesterday _ . 

Ligur used to be a lot better at stopping it, but now he  _ likes  _ Aziraphale a lot more, so he’s becoming more and more active in conversation. Which means it’s up to Crowley to separate them. It's exhausting. 

He groans, and pushes himself up. So much for  _ just  _ the two of them, because even when he gets involved it still takes too  _ bloody  _ long, because despite everything he likes them too, and then Aziraphale is too  _ bloody  _ tired to do the kind of relaxing that Crowley would  _ want _ . And not for the first time, he thinks,  _ fucking Hastur _ . 

4\. Crowley’s Royal Apartments, Before the Final Battle

The night before any major skirmish is the  _ worst _ . They both have too much nervous energy. Aziraphale is pacing back and forth, feeling a dreadful combination of anxiety and adrenaline that he can’t seem to properly channel. It's drawn the attention of his fiance, as they are the only two in their living room. 

“You’re going to exhaust yourself before we ride out tomorrow,” Crowley drawled, reaching out to place a hand on the back of the angel’s neck. Aziraphale gives a disgruntled sigh, trying to relax in his grip

“You’re right.” He rests his forehead against Crowley’s collar bone, and the demon presses a kiss into his hair. 

“I usually am, yeah.”

Aziraphale gives a snort, but Crowley takes encouragement that he isn’t shoved for that little comment. He rests his arms on the angel’s waist. 

“How’s your chest?” Aziraphale no longer wears a bandage, but Crowley has a feeling he will never stop asking. Lilith’s blessing had done them well - it had completely healed. The only evidence that something had happened was a scar that left a definite impression. On one hand, Crowley hated that it was there, because it was a reminder of how he almost lost his love. But on the other hand, it was a reminder that they had the support of their Queen and King, and that was not something to take lightly. 

"It's alright," Aziraphale answered. He will always expect those questions, and he will always be ready to give an answer to his fiance. 

Crowley lifts his head by placing a hand under his chin, and Aziraphale leans in to give him a kiss. Crowley deepens it, pulling Aziraphale as close as he can. The angel gives a plaintive 'hum', grinning at him. 

"What if we worked off our nervous energy?" The demon purrs, and Aziraphale leaned in for another nip. 

"Temptation accomplished," Is his reply, and Crowley's about to drag him back to their room when they are interrupted by a pounding on the door. 

"Aziraphale! Crowley! Open up!" 

Crowley gives a loud groan. "Hastur," He growls, and Aziraphale gives a little breathless chuckle. 

"He means well," The angel consoles, but Crowley doesn't want to hear it. 

"He has no boundaries," Is what his response is, and Aziraphale gives a small huff. Then the angel moves towards the door, despite Crowley urging him to not do that. 

"No, come on, pretend we aren't home," Crowley begs, but it's too late, Aziraphale has already answered the door. 

Hastur enters, followed by Ligur, and at least they have alcohol. 

"Thought we'd drink the night away until the fighting tomorrow," Hastur says, holding up a handle. Aziraphale goes to get glasses, liking the idea. Crowley gives a frustrated sigh. 

"A couple drinks-fine," He says, but then the door is being opened and Stolas, Beelzebub, and Dagon are coming in. 

"Heard we were drinking here," Dagon says, offering up some rum. Crowley wants to rage to, well. Hell. 

Dammit. Since when was his home the place to hang out? Helplessly, his eyes go over to his fiance, who is now drinking brandy with Hastur and Ligur. His angel is quite popular down here. It's endearing, but right now it's mostly annoying. 

5\. Night Before the Wedding

"One of us  _ should _ probably sleep somewhere else tonight," Aziraphale muses casually, oblivious to the panic he was ensuring Crowley was feeling. 

The Demon spluttered. " _ Ngh, wha-kng- _ "

Aziraphale gave him an endearing smile and a kiss. "You are  _ adorable _ when you are flustered, my dear. But there’s a tradition about this sort of thing. About a couple not seeing each other before the wedding.” 

“It’s a bloody  _ stupid _ tradition,” Crowley did  _ not _ whine, pulling Aziraphale into his arms. Crowley was an  _ expert _ in willpower, and in the belief that if he could contort himself around his angel enough, then Aziraphale would stop talking about something so silly like separating. 

For once, it seemed like Aziraphale was going to listen to him. 

“Well… it does seem silly,” Aziraphale smiled at him. “Up Stairs we spent whole  _ centuries  _ apart from each other, I’m not feeling very inclined to spending time away from you now.”

“Exactly,” Crowley agreed, and flashed a grin at him. “What say we give our morning night a practise run angel?” 

Aziraphale gives a little chuckle, acquiescing to a kiss that Crowley gives him. “I think that-”

They’re interrupted by a loud banging on the door. It sounds as though someone is pounding with both their fists. Aziraphale would guess that if he didn’t answer the door, the pounding would not stop. Crowley does not agree. 

“C’mon, angel, leave it, no-” He groans, but it’s too late. Aziraphale has already left his arms to go and answer the door. 

And of  _ fucking _ course. Crowley snarls to his own ceiling, much like he had all those years ago when trying to look for the antichrist.  _ Hastur _ . 

Duke fucking Hastur was in his doorway, grinning as if he had every right to be there. Behind him was Ligur, as always. But also with them was Beelzebub. They looked annoyed, but Crowley knew that was more of an act than anything else. 

“Night before your wedding!” Hastur jeered, as if they didn’t already know. 

Aziraphale gave a mocking round of applause. “And look at that! You remembered how to tell day and night apart!” 

Ligur gave a snort, which was a far cry from threatening to fight him, like he would have done earlier. 

Hastur was undeterred. “I’m gonna stand behind you, and that means I’m basically your best man.” Aziraphale didn’t make an effort to react, and his grin widened. “The mission of a best man is to throw a party  _ with alcohol _ .” 

Aziraphale’s whole face  _ lit up  _ and Crowley was doomed. “Where is this promised alcohol?” His angel asked, looking at Hastur and Ligur intently. 

They both grinned at him. “It’s at your party,” Hastur tantalized, and Crowley wanted to strangle him. 

But when Aziraphale looked at him with that joyous face, Crowley couldn’t help but grin at him. How could he say no to him? “Oh Crowley,” Aziraphale pleaded, and the demon gave a sigh. 

“Alright, alright, we’ll go,” He acquiesced, and Aziraphale gave a happy  _ wiggle _ .

Ligur snorted. “No ‘we’ Prince Crowley,” he said mockingly, and Hastur stepped forward to pull Aziraphale close. “Just the angel, it’s his party.” 

“We’ll have him back tomorrow morning! In one piece!” Hastur promised with a wild grin. 

“Most likely,” Ligur shrugged. 

“You - you - can’t just-” Crowley snapped, only to be interrupted with a, “Can’t see each other the night before the wedding!” From Hastur as they dragged off his laughing fiance. 

Crowley gave an annoyed groan, only to notice Beelzebub was still there. “Not going off to whatever  _ that  _ is going to be?” He hissed, and they scoffed. 

“Not bloody likely,” Beelzebub shook their head. It was then that Crowley noticed they were holding a handle, and that was when they lifted it. He grimaced. 

It was their favorite whiskey. But it was still a poor cry from getting to spend the night taking his angel apart. 

+1. After Book Club, after the battle. 

“Is your plan to really read every one of Shakespeare’s bloody sonnets?” 

Aziraphale leveled a look at Crowley, and the Demon returned the same deadpan stare. Neither looked away from each other, because looking away meant admitting defeat, and neither was willing to concede on this. It created an uncomfortable atmosphere for everyone else, though. 

The rest of the Demons in the book club shifted, looking from Aziraphale to Crowley, but Beelzebub was _delighted_. If they had known book club meetings would have this kind of flair they would have been coming a _long_ time ago. In a sense of normalcy, post their wedding, and before any upending visits from the Queen, Aziraphale had decided to hold the first book club since before the wedding. Crowley would have much rather preferred to do Aziraphale, but the angel had given him the begging eyes and he'd wobbled, and Crowley could never say no to him. 

"The sonnets are _perfectly_ lovely," Aziraphale returned. "_You_ just take issue with the gloomy ones.” 

Crowley snorted, shaking his head. “Nahh, I just take issue with you focusing on this one author too bloody much.” 

“How many authors  _ are _ there?” Ligur wondered, looking confused. 

“At  _ least… _ five …” Hastur half-guessed. Beelzebub rolled their eyes. 

“Well what author would  _ you _ represent?” Aziraphale challenged, ignoring the others. 

The Demon didn’t answer right away. He got up, walking to one of the bookshelves. Some books were picked up, considered, and then rejected. After a few moments, Crowley finally let out a triumphant, exaggerated, noise and pulled “_Sonnets from the Portugeese”_ from the shelf. 

“_Elizabeth Barrett Browning_,” Aziraphale breathed, recognizing the title and author in an instant. Which Crowley had counted on - he'd married a very smart angel. For his part, Aziraphale's heart was racing. Oh, but Crowley  _ wouldn’t… _ there was just  _ no _ way… it was practically _indecent_ if he read...

Well it was one of her most  _ famous _ sonnets but  _ oh _ -

Azirahale shifted, realizing that was exactly  _ what _ sonnet Crowley was looking for. Because of course his husband would choose that and read it _aloud to their friends._ How very... demonic of him! 

In a _dramatic_ flair, Crowley cleared his throat, thumbing through the pages in over-the-top motions until he settled on the correct page. 

“Sonnet 43,” Crowley announced to the room. His eyes met Aziraphale’s, and ever so subtly he sent a _wink_. The Demon turned to the group to begin reading. “This one’s famous Up Stairs,” Crowley announced, and began to read out loud. 

_ “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.  _

_ I love thee to the depth and breadth and height  _

_ My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight  _

_ For the ends of being and ideal grace.  _

_ I love thee to the level of every day’s  _

_ Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.  _

_ I love thee freely, as men strive for right;  _

_ I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.  _

_ I love thee with the passion put to use  _

_ In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.  _

_ I love thee with a love I seemed to lose  _

_ With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,  _

_ Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,  _

_ I shall but love thee better after death.” _

And _oh_, Aziraphale was not prepared to feel those _emotions_. Maybe it was because he'd been celebrating his own marriage so recently, but he was a hair's breadth away from tears. That was so incredibly romantic. And of course Crowley liked that one. His husband was soft for love poems, love sonnets, romantic comedies. Anything where they couple could have a happy end and beat the odds together because that was all the demon had ever wanted. 

The other demons in the room had looks of shock on their face. Crowley had spent dedicated moments nearly every book club explaining how he was not much of a reader, and that he didn't like to dedicate long stretches of time to books. It was quite the admission of dishonesty for him to expertly know exactly where the book he wanted was, and then read it aloud with such passion and vigor. Beelzebub had even put down their copy of ‘_Ten Thousand Leagues Under the Sea_’ as Crowley began to read. His voice was captivating - they were all prisoner. 

Crowley had cultivated an image as a Cool and Aloof Demon. But there was a fondness in his heart for love stories that ended happily. For a comedy. For poems that spoke to softness that he’d had to harden his own heart to. 

It reminded him of a specific Angel. How Aziraphale had such room in his heart to enjoy and love things so _unapologetically_. That maybe for a _brief_ moment he could fantasize in a world where he got that happy ending, that comedic relief, could enjoy that softness for himself for a moment before he had to be a Demon. Of course, now he could have that in real life which was _incredible_, but he still enjoyed revisiting some of the classics, especially now that he could _combine_ the fantasy with his reality. He looked over to Aziraphale, and gave him a small smile. All _this_ he was able to communicate to the Angel that knew him the best, and Aziraphale gave him a smile in return, because he understood. 

And Aziraphale understood alright. He understood very well. And his whole body yearned to have Crowley read more to him, with them both wearing considerably less clothing. 

“I think,” The Angel said, “Crowley makes a … very astute point. So I believe that tomorrow we’ll start building a list that everyone else can weigh in on.”

“Tomorrow?” Hastur asked, and Aziraphale nodded hurriedly.

“I think we’ve reached a good stopping point for today,” He said quickly, and very pointedly ignored the _snort_ out of Beelzebub. They hadn't just heard their romantic partner read such language out loud! He could be forgiven for his hastiness. 

Demons began to file out of the room, and Aziraphale gave kind but pointedly  _ firm _ goodbyes to each one. Crowley, for his part, just smirked from where he stood. He didn't move to help escort any away, but he also didn't bother engaging any in conversation. 

Even when Hastur approached him to bring up something that he had forgotten about earlier, for the first time in their friendship Aziraphale did  _ not _ join in.

"I'm so sorry my dear," He said, walking him and Ligur to the door, "But I'm afraid I'm dreadfully busy at the moment."

Ligur was snickering at him, immune to the glare Aziraphale gave him. "I'm sure you're _busy," _Ligur teased, pulling Hastur along with him. Hastur blinked, but Ligur whispered something to him that had him snorting. Aziraphale ignored them both, and very firmly closed the door behind them. Once it was safely shut, Aziraphale let out a relieved breath. 

"Finally," Aziraphale whispered, "Alone at last." 

He heard a snort directly behind him, and a pair of arms wrapped around his waist. "You're in a hurry tonight love, is something the matter?" A voice hissed into his ear. Aziraphale grinned, turning into Crowley's embrace. 

"You know perfectly well what I am in a _hurry for, _and I certainly hope that it will not be _hurried_," He sassed, and gave a delighted shout when Crowley squeezed at his arse. 

"Oh I intend for it to be long and thorough," He growled, lifting Aziraphale in his arms. The angel went along with a breathless sigh. If Crowley were not to determined to make sure Aziraphale would spend the rest of the night falling apart from under him, he would be laughing at himself. Of course. It was so obvious, this whole time. All he ever needed to do was read poetry and he could have his angel all to himself. 

Suck it, Hastur. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to chat with me about this fic, any other fic, or Good Omens in general please reach out to my tumblr, GoodOmensAndRecreation! You can also message me on LadyGryffinJew, my other Tumblr. Please send me any prompts, requests, questions, headcannons, anything to help me grow this little universe!
> 
> Also if you have your own headcannon and feel so inclined to write or draw anything, please do so! Just send me a link - it would fill my heart with so much joy. No pressure though, at all.
> 
> Please let me know if you like or didn't like anything (but be constructive please). I am opening to learning and growing, and I take requests.


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